


Ignis' Hands

by TheEmcee



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Complete, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Male Slash, No Sex, Not Beta Read, Randomness, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4878385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEmcee/pseuds/TheEmcee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ignis has nice hands</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ignis' Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing
> 
> A/N: I cannot begin to tell you how much this pairing is taking over my life. It’s like, every time an idea for a story pops into my head, these two come up and it’s just….ugh. I love them, but I don’t want to screw them up, y’know? Sigh. Anyway, please feel free to leave a comment in the towel section down below. Also, I wrote this when I was half asleep, so if it doesn’t make any sense…sorry. R&R. Enjoy!

~…~

Ignis’ Hands

~…~

 

Ignis rarely took his gloves off. 

Ever since they were teenagers he wore gloves. They changed over time, the color, the brand, the texture, the style, but the one thing that didn’t change was the fact that Ignis wore them almost constantly. The only exceptions to this were when he was cooking and when he was bathing (Prompto couldn’t say for sure that Ignis removed his gloves when he took a leak because he never followed him into the bathroom, nor would he ever unless it was under special circumstances). Other than that, the gloves remained on. Ignis even wore them in his sleep!

Prompto didn’t know why and he had never asked. He knew that Ignis would give him an answer if he did, but half of the time he had other things on his mind and half of the time he just never let his mouth blurt out the question. Which was amazing because his mouth often ran so far ahead of his mind that even he couldn’t keep up with himself (talk about trippy). And honestly, Ignis hardly took his gloves off, so it was natural seeing him with them on at all times. 

That was why it was so strange and weird whenever he took them off when he was cooking or in the shower. Every time Prompto pictured Ignis in his mind, saw an actual picture of him, or recalled a memory, Ignis had gloves. He wouldn’t be surprised if the sales on gloves skyrocketed solely because of Ignis, even though he wasn’t loyal to any particular brand. At that thought, he giggled just a little bit; while it was unlikely that such a thing was true, it was funny imagining men and women alike buying gloves just because Ignis pulled them off so well and wore them so very often.

“What are you giggling about?” Ignis’ voice pulled Prompto out of his train of thought and the blonde promptly released the other’s hand, which he had been holding while Ignis read his book by the campfire.

“People rushing out to buy gloves because of you,” Prompto said and then giggled again. Saying it out loud was even funnier than thinking it. Perhaps he should have gone to bed with Noct and Gladio instead of stay up with Ignis on look out. 

“Is that so?” Ignis asked, not even taking his eyes off of the page he was currently reading. He was half way through the book now.

“Well, you are kind of like the spokesperson for gloves,” Prompto said, smiling at Ignis. Even though he hadn’t looked up, the elder’s lips did quirk into a small smile, the same one that never failed to melt Prompto’s insides (dear sweet Lord, no wonder Noct called him the girl in the relationship just a few days ago).

“If that’s the case, then I ought to file a complaint for never seeing any royalties from glove sales,” Ignis said and Prompto laughed.   
Both of his hands were still clasping Ignis’ own, holding it gently. He didn’t even remember grabbing hold of it, yet he had. How long had he been lost in thought? Oh, well. It didn’t really matter. Prompto liked holding Ignis’ hand; he liked holding both of them too. Actually, there was very little he didn’t like about Ignis and thinking on it now, nothing immediate came to mind. Suddenly, Prompto realized something.

“Ignis! You’re not wearing your gloves!” he gasped. And it was true; Ignis’ hands, both of them, were bare to the world. How had he not noticed? After all, he had been holding one of them for a little while now. When had Ignis removed them? Jeez, was he dense or what!

“I realize that,” Ignis said, and he turned the page of his book and began reading the one that followed. 

Prompto looked down at the hand he held. One of the things Prompto had always liked about Ignis’ hands was that they were larger than his own. Not to huge that Prompto’s own looked like kiddy hands in comparison, but bigger, with long fingers. And they looked so strong but were so soft and warm. Oh no, don’t tell him he had a fetish for hands or something. That’d be great; he could hear Noctis now, laughing at him and teasing him, though he wouldn’t be as bad as Gladiolus. 

“When did you take them off?” Prompto asked Ignis as he studied the hand. He was so used to seeing them gloved that they looked weird right now. They were still familiar, but it was just…odd. Seeing them bared like this.

“Not long after you came and sat down beside me. You’ve been holding my hand for at least half an hour,” Ignis replied nonchalantly, as though the fact that he had taken off his gloves was no big deal.

“But…aren’t your hands sensitive or something?” he said.

“They are,” Ignis stated simply, his green eyes running over the words on the page. Prompto looked down at the hand he held for a second before he looked back up at his boyfriend.

“Why’d you take ‘em off?” he said softly. 

Ignis finally looked up from his book and his green eyes met Prompto’s own. His expression, though tired, was soft and warm, with a tenderness that Prompto didn’t see directed at anyone else but himself. It made him blush faintly, but it also made him incredibly giddy and light (seriously, he was glad Noct couldn’t read minds because he’d be teased relentlessly for his girl-ish thoughts in the morning if he could).

“Sometimes, I just like feeling your skin brush against my own,” Ignis said, his voice soft and gentle, washing over Prompto like a warm, never-ending blanket. “We haven’t had a lot of alone time recently and something like this, though small, is still very nice.”

 

At his words, Prompto felt himself smile softly. Still blushing, he brought Ignis’ hand up to his mouth and placed a soft kiss to each knuckle because he pressed the palm of it to his cheek. He closed his eyes, reveling in the warmth and softness of Ignis’ hand. Only when he felt a thumb brush against his lips did he open his eyes. Ignis was gazing at him with a certain longing Prompto recognized all too well and within seconds, he was being kissed. Not that he minded; kissing Ignis was one of his favorite pass times, though they hadn’t had much time for kissing or anything else or that matter recently.

A low whine escaped him when Ignis pulled away. Green eyes ran over his face and then returned to his own. Ignis gave him another small smile before he leaned in and kissed his forehead.

“Soon,” he promised. 

Prompto nodded and went back to holding his hand. He scooted the chair closer to Ignis’ and cuddled up against him. His eyes scanned over the words on the page before they began to droop. Soon, they felt too heavy to keep them open for longer than a few seconds at a time and even that became too much after a while. 

The last thing Prompto remembered before falling asleep was the brush of soft, warm fingers against his cheek.


End file.
